


I. O. U.

by lycanus1



Category: King Arthur (2004)
Genre: Attraction, Blood Kink, Feels, Friends to Lovers, Hand Job, Interrupted Foreplay, M/M, Making The Best of a Bad Situation, bar room brawling, frustration caused by denial, mild blood loss, turning situation to an advantage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:39:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6014488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lycanus1/pseuds/lycanus1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the small matter of a brawl and a little "debt collecting," leads to unexpected pleasure ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	I. O. U.

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: The KA lads never were mine, still aren't mine and never will be. Everything you recognize, belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer and Touchstone Pictures – gods-damnit ! No copyright infringement is intended.

He felt the Scout rub his cheek, cat-like, against the back of his fingers, watching him steadily through half-closed, hooded, golden eyes. Tristan's arm tightened around Dagonet's waist, its weight both possessive and comforting, as he silently guided the tall Roxolani to a pallet on the right hand side of the stable loft, beneath the skylight.

"Sit," he commanded softly, pushing Dagonet to recline on the large, make-shift straw mattress, before stalking away to the opposite end of the room. Mystified, Dagonet eyed the Aorsi warily as he returned to kneel by his side.

"What _are_ you doing ?" Dagonet asked suspiciously as Tristan closed the gap between them. The younger man had an unusually innocent expression on his lean, noble profile, simply reached for a clean, damp cloth.

"Tending your wound, old friend," he murmured and ever so carefully, began to swab the blood clean from the stubble on the Healer's scalp. "Least I could do ..."

Dagonet sank back against the wall and relaxed. He closed his eyes and savoured Tristan's light, gentle touch with a sigh of pleasure. Suddenly, his eyes flew wide open when he felt firm, seductive lips replace the coarse material and the moist heat of the Scout's tongue delicately licking the traces of blood away from his injured scalp. Dagonet moaned huskily. The close proximity of Tristan's body and the intimacy of the situation inflamed him. Somehow, his large hand came to rest on Tristan's left flank, his long fingers unconsciously kneading the man's flesh through the olive-green suede tunic which he favoured.

"Be still ! I've not finished tending to you," Tristan rasped, a note of mirth in his husky voice, his lips roaming down the older knight's temple and over the vicious scar, towards the corner of his mouth.

"Believe me, _you've_ done enough," Dagonet growled impatiently, pulling Tristan onto the hard, taut muscles of his lap and claiming his lips like a starving man. The Aorsi eagerly parted his lips, allowing Dagonet to explore his mouth, his tongue brushing rhythmically and seductively against Tristan's, who moaned throatily with need.

The Scout tasted as good as he felt, Dagonet thought absently, losing himself in the all-consuming kiss. He tasted of wine and pure, absolute carnal pleasure and being typically Tristan - which didn't surprize the Roxolani at all - of sweet, tangy, juicy red apples. Although stone-cold sober, Dagonet found himself swaying unsteadily towards the Aorsi as he became increasingly intoxicated by the younger knight. He couldn't help it and frankly, wasn't at all inclined to break free. If anything, he craved more from Tristan. So much more.

Even in his slightly inebriated state, it was as if the dark-haired death-dealer knew what the older Sarmatian wanted. What he desired ... And to Dagonet's acute frustration, Tristan abruptly pulled back.

"Gods, Tris !" he growled, his deep voice thick with desire and longing. It held an intense need that sent a shiver down the Scout's spine. "Stop playing me ..."

For once, there wasn't a hint of a smirk on the Aorsi's handsome face. He silently watched the man before him with a hunger, a yearning that he found impossible to ignore or deny. The man he'd come to respect, admire and love above all others. Dagonet. Licking his split lower lip carefully, Tristan reached out a hand to tenderly caress the Healer's badly bruised left cheek. To his amazement, his hand trembled as it came into contact with the other man's skin.

"'M not, Dag, I swear ..." he replied huskily. "Wouldn't ... _couldn't_ do that. Not to you. 'Specially you. You mean far too much to me to play you ..." He gazed deeply into Dagonet's eyes and found himself drowning in those mesmerizing, silvery pools.

Dagonet suddenly grinned. The unexpected smile lit up his usually sombre countenance, transforming him into a ruggedly attractive man. Tristan's heart immediately began to race and his breath hitched when the Healer cupped his bearded jaw and lightly rubbed the ball of his thumb across his lower lip. He couldn't help closing his eyes or the contented sigh from passing his lips as he leant further into the Roxolani's touch. There was just something about the gentle giant's touch, his caresses, he found addictive. He simply couldn't get enough of Dagonet and found him impossible to resist.

"You're a mess, Tris," the older knight murmured, amusement making his pale eyes glint and sparkle. He gently took hold of one of the Scout's dark braids and twisted it absently around the silver and black clan ring he wore on his right index finger.

"And you're not ?" Tristan replied with an equally amused grin, draping his right arm over Dagonet's shoulder. "Although I wager neither of us look as bad as your cousin."

Dagonet slowly shook his cropped head and chuckled softly. "I swear, this is the last time I'm bailing you and Bors out of a tavern brawl ... Why is it whenever you two go drinking together, you end up fighting the Romans ? And I'm the daft sod who _always_ gets your arses out of trouble ... ?"

"And we're both deeply in your debt." Tristan began to gently nuzzle Dagonet's throat, slipped his free hand beneath the Healer's rust-coloured and with slow deliberation, caressed the firm musculature beneath it. "You _know_ how grateful I can be, Dag ..."

Dagonet released a shaky breath. His lean, powerful body trembled beneath his lover's sure, confident, magical hands.

"Show me ..." the older knight finally rasped. "Prove it to me ... Make me believe that I'm no fool. That I'm not wasting my time keeping the pair of you alive and out of trouble ..."

The Scout smirked and pressed his slight, athletic form closer to the Healer and leant forward to whisper in his ear. "Is this your round-about way of trying to ask me to kiss your wounds better, Dag ? If it is, you should know better. All you have to do is ask ..." Tristan teased the cropped-haired, scarred Roxolani, before gently nipping at his earlobe. Dagonet hissed in response.

"You say you owe me, Scout," Dagonet rasped, "well, I reckon it's time I collected your debt ..."

The Aorsi's lips abruptly stopped worshipping the powerful warrior's throat. He pulled back to watch Dagonet, his golden eyes gleaming with an intense hunger and something else. Something deeper. Stronger. The Roxolani instantly recognized the look. It was one that he knew well and was as familiar to him as an old, dear friend. And he should know, he'd lived with that very same look of yearning for eleven years. It had been the one he, himself viewed the Scout with. The look of heated desire. Need. Longing. Adoration ... And above all, love ...

"Really ?" There was a faint trace of hope in Tristan's gravelly voice and his hand resumed its possessive wandering beneath Dag's tunic. "So, what's stopping you, my wolf ?"

"Tristan ..."

"Hmmm ... ?"

"Shut your yap. You talk too much ..."

An inner fire made the Scout's eyes gleam with devilry as he met the Healer's molten silver gaze head on. Tristan smirked, then coolly replied, daring Dagonet with his words, " _Make_ me, Dag ... I _know_ you want to ..."

The Healer's stormy eyes had visibly darkened with lust. Tristan gave a sudden sharp gasp when he felt Dagonet's hand tangle in his dark, wild mane and tug his hair back, exposing his throat.

" _Don't_ push me, Scout ... Just don't ..." he rasped before attacking the deadly, younger knight's neck with his lips and pulling him across to straddle his lean hips. The feeling of intense pleasure caused by Dagonet's skilful, wicked lips had Tristan writhing in desperate need against him.

"N-not p-pushing ..." he panted as he ground against Dagonet's leather-clad, rock-hard arousal, craving friction, "j-just ... giving you a g-gentle shove in the r-right direction ... 's all ..."

"So that's what you call it ? A "gentle shove," huh ?" Dagonet murmured, his free hand surreptitiously slipped between their bodies and swiftly unlaced the Scout's breeches. Tristan hissed sharply as the Healer's cool palm came into contact with his heated, painfully aroused flesh.

"Oh ... g-gods ... Da-ag !" Tristan groaned, his hips eagerly thrusting of their own volition, into the Roxolani's hand. He could feel Dagonet's lips curve into a grin against his neck and Dag's talented fingers curl possessively around his aching shaft. The tall knight knew he had his lover exactly where he wanted him to be. Competely at his mercy ... He began to tease and torment the Aorsi, alternating long, firm strokes with feather-light caresses, knowing exactly what would get the other Sarmatian off. What would make the silent man scream with pleasure and insane with need. It didn't take long for the Scout to find his release. With a final twist of his wrist and a sharp jerk of his hand, Dagonet pulled back slightly to watch his beloved Aorsi through hooded eyes. White-knuckled, Tristan's hands gripped Dagonet's shoulders tightly, his striking golden eyes closed and he threw his head back as pleasure overwhelmed him. He came with a harsh, guttural roar and collapsed, slumped wearily against the rugged giant. Trembling in the aftermath of his release. Sated, yet happy. Content to remain vulnerable in the embrace of the man he loved.

Dagonet smiled gently. He'd never tire of seeing his Tristan come undone in his arms. All his defences shattered and his heart and soul laid bare, for his eyes alone. Seeing the feral, proud Scout willingly, eagerly, become vulnerable just for him. Hearing the desire, the need in his faintly-accented, gravelly voice as he cried out Dagonet's name in a faithful mantra as he came violently, then feeling him lie trustingly in his embrace as he slowly regained his composure ... his strength and his stamina. Dagonet pulled the slighter man closer, cradling him protectively and whispered words of comfort and love in their mother tongue, before gently sweeping the man's damp hair from his forehead and tenderly kissing his temple. The Scout's reaction was instantaneous. He burrowed himself further into the warm, safe haven of his Healer's arms and draped himself around him. Sleek, sinewy limbs tightly wrapped, curved around the man who'd forever be his rock, his conscience and the keeper of his sanity. The man who held his heart and would continue to do so until he drew his very last breath.

"You, my brave, strong, handsome wolf, will be the death of me, as like as not ..." Tristan gasped, once he regained his breath and his heart had stopped racing madly. He looked up and ran his fingertips down the scar which marred his lover's face. His normally cold, hard gaze was full of warmth and tenderness.

"And _you're_ complaining ?" Dagonet raised an eyebrow.

"Nah ... reckon I can think of worse ways to go ..." the Scout managed a faint smirk. His heated gaze flickered to the Healer's lips and without warning, he rose up to meet and claim them hungrily. Tristan wound his arms around Dagonet's neck and pressed his upper torso wantonly against his lover. Dagonet soon found the need to respond, to reciprocate and succumb to the Aorsi's persuasive powers of seduction impossible to ignore or resist. He yielded with a soft groan and returned Tristan's kisses fervently.

"Far worse ways to die ..." Tristan murmured throatily, before sinking his teeth into the juncture at the base of Dagonet's neck, just above the clavicle. Dagonet hissed sharply at the sting of pain then gave a low moan of pleasure at the feel of Tristan's tongue tenderly laving the hurt away from the bite.

"Tri-is, you bastard ..." he groaned and heard the Scout softly chuckle in amusement as he deftly parted Dagonet's tunic to gain further access to his lean, muscular torso. Through half-closed eyes, Dagonet watched his lover's dark head drift downwards, the salt and pepper beard grazing sensitive, golden skin as he left a trail of fiery kisses over taut sinew and warm flesh. The Healer's breath suddenly hitched as the Scout's lips locked upon his nipple. Tristan curled his tongue possessively around the dark, tautening nub, licking it then biting gently. Playing with it. Tormenting and teasing the giant with his actions, until he knew the big man would start to lose control. The Aorsi began to caress the taut ridges of the Roxolani's abdomen. His touch proprietary and deeply seductive, sending tiny licks of fire straight to the Healer's groin.

"Aye ... I'm a bastard ... _Your_ bastard, Dag. Only yours. _Never_ forget that ..."

"'M not bloody likely to, am I ? Not when ... agh- " Dagonet moaned as Tristan's fingers slid beneath the snug leather breeches, lightly tracing the 'v' of his hips. Tristan was about to unlace the leathers and release him from the confining garment in order to relieve some of Dagonet's tension, when they both heard a shout from the stable below.

" _DA-AG !_ You in there ?" It was Galahad and he sounded anxious. "Have you seen Tristan ?"

Tristan began to snigger, only for Dagonet to hastily cover his mouth with a large hand in an attempt to silence him. He gave his errant Scout a fond, yet warning glare.

"Shhh ..."

"Dag !" the young Halani yelled once more, " _If_ you see him, we need the pair of you back at the tavern. There's ... uh ... bit of trouble. A fight ... Seems like Bors has got himself into another scrap and could use your help ..." The next thing they heard was the stable door closing with a bang and Dagonet slowly removed his hand away from the smirking Scout's mouth.

"Well, you heard the Pup," Tristan remarked calmly, his red-gold eyes dancing merrily as he noted the sheer frustration on his lover's face. "Seems like we're needed, my wolf. _Someone's_ got himself into a spot of bother again- " He rose gracefully to his feet and swiftly re-adjusted his clothing, clearly amused by Dagonet's disappointment and anger.

"Fucking Bors ! Damn fool has lousy timing ..." Dagonet muttered furiously, as he shrugged into his brown leather over-shirt and stomped towards the rickety stairs which led down from the loft to the stables. "Just 'cause we were interrupted, doesn't mean this is over, Tris. You _still_ owe me ... and I still mean to collect ..." He strode briskly down the stairs, followed by the grinning Scout.

"Can't wait, Dag ... _Can't_ wait ..." Tristan replied softly, mentally thanking Dagonet's older kinsman for starting another fight. If there was one thing Tristan enjoyed - other than fighting - it was being in debt to the younger Roxolani. It was his one true pleasure in life. Providing “payment” to Dagonet had become his vice. His weakness. One that he was extremely reluctant to give up. "I owe you, my love, and I'll make damn sure that I'll keep on owing you ... _with_ a little help from Bors !"

**Finis**


End file.
